Fragile Things
by stardustandsunshine
Summary: What will hopefully become a series of Charlie/Claire drabbles. Canon up until the season 3 finale, which broke my heart and hence will be ignored!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own _nothing. _If I did, trust me, you'd notice.

Rating: K+

Pairing: Charlie/Claire obviously!

AN: Um, this my first ever attempt at fanfiction so I would _really _appreciate some constructive criticism. Also, I apologise for any formatting mistakes, my computer doesn't like me at the minute. Oh, and one last thing!! I got the prompts off livejournal. Right, I'll shut up now. . . .

006-Church

Charlie likes coming here, if he can get away from camp on those rare days when the world _isn't_ ending and the Others _aren't_ coming.

It's still only a half-finished hut, with a narrow doorway and a lopsided window, but he's strangely proud of it. He hewed these logs himself (suffered terrible splinters for it too), spent what felt like hours hoisting beams into place, and though he doesn't have the time to do it himself he'd like to see it finished one day.

It might do for a wedding, perhaps, he thinks, smiling, and then he hears Claire calling.

036-Sick

He's never felt fear like it, that moment when he sees the blood blossom across her face and she collapses into his arms, and his mind just goes numb, because it's _Claire, _goddamn it and he can't lose her. He can't.

He sits with her all night, and all day, and half the night again and then, even though he feels so guilty about it he _has _to sleep. So he drops off, still clutching her hand and the ever-present pulse is a small comfort in his nightmares.

Seeing her smile the next morning is like the sun coming out.

033-Wish

Late one night, since neither of them can sleep, he and Claire are stargazing.

The sky here is vast and blazing with stars and he smiles when he realises Claire can name most of them. He lets her list them off, content to lie here and listen.

Far away, a star falls.

'Make a wish Charlie,' she sighs from her position nestled under his arm and quickly demands an explanation when he declines.

She laughs, softly, with eyes bright as the stars when he tells her that all his came true when he met her, though he genuinely means it.

025-Gasp

In his head, he silently thanks God for creating Desmond Hume because the first gasp that escapes Claire's lips after her near-drowning seems as miraculous to him as any old water-to-wine trick.

Only the faintest hint of jealousy crosses his mind (that _he _couldn't have been the one to save her) before he hears her asking for him.

After that, he couldn't care less and he can only shoot the Scot a beaming smile, that he knows isn't nearly enough (he owes the man his life), then he's right at Claire's side again.

Exactly where he's supposed to be.

014-Sing

After much prodding and poking she eventually persuades him to sing for her, and he does.

His fingers don't find the chords as quickly as they used to (he's out of practice) and his voice is a tad shaky but she doesn't notice.

Halfway into the song, she joins in, so their voices attract a fair few stares from the neighbours. She doesn't notice them either.

_It's not that we're scared; it's just that it's delicate._

She likes the song he's chosen, and they have a wonderfully long discussion afterwards about their musical tastes (they're almost the same, they find).

_Review please!! You have no idea how much I'd appreciate it!!_


	2. Chapter 2

_AN:I'm not really that happy with these but I thought I'd post them anyway, because I think too long about them I'll see ALL the problems they have and never get around to it!! So here's batch no.2, hope you enjoy them._

011 – Cry

Claire doesn't cry often, not under normal circumstances anyway.

But she cries, _sobs_ for hours the day she glimpses the raw, angry scars circling Charlie's neck, and a memory creeps unbidden back into her mind; Charlie dangling at the end of a rope, Charlie's feet jerking wildly, Charlie's breath being ripped from his body.

Charlie dying; for her.

She cries and cries and he's utterly bewildered by it all, so he just takes her hand and sits beside her, stroking her hair, until she's calmed down enough to break his heart a little with her whispered words,

_You left me._

021-Psychotic

This isn't her Charlie, this _monster _that is capable of stealing children, stealing _Aaron_.

This isn't him, she knows that, but she's a mother now and has a son to think of, and in truth, it frightens her to see him like this, wild and desperate and dangerous.

Her Charlie has always made her feel safe.

Sometimes, she thinks she never knew him at all, but then she remembers peanut butter and sun- hats and realises she'll have to trust him to make his own way back to her.

He's just a little more lost than the rest of them.

007-Moonlight

In the caves, once the fires are put out, the moonlight seeping through the cracks is the only way he can see her.

He doesn't watch her in a stalker kinda way, but hell, she's a damn sight prettier than Hurley to look at and he can never get to sleep anymore. So he'll stare at her, idly, until tiredness catches up with him.

She caught him once. It took him several moments too many to realise that two blue eyes were staring back, and he dropped his eyes guiltily, embarrassed.

She never mentions it again.

So neither does he.

010-Noble

He manages to slip past Kate the night after he takes Aaron (how, she'll never know).

She screams at him in a whisper that he's never coming near either of them again, though it's killing her to say it and having to see his face fall, to see all his hopes of a future with them, with her, just crumble and wither away to nothing under her stony gaze.

She doesn't want to hurt him but he's hurt her so much and she's sick of being noble.

'I'm _sorry_,' he says in a voice like broken glass and he's gone.

037-Turbulence

They hit turbulence at 10,000 feet, and get pummelled around the sky for at least half-an-hour before it clears, and the whole time Charlie has his eyes squeezed shut and his fingernails dug deep into the armrest. He's never liked flying.

He doesn't realise it's over until a cool hand touches his and he hears a breezy Australian accent saying,

'We're okay now.'

'Thanks love,' he mumbles blearily, relinquishing his grip and he just manages to catch a glimpse of blue eyes, fair hair and an enormous belly before she waddles on towards the bathroom.

God, he needs a fix.

_Reviews are very much appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer, etc. See first chapter.**

**AN: **Only four today, because I really had to post _something,_ though I'm still not happy with the second one. Oh, and by the way, all of them so far are _**exactly **_100 words long, which I think is some kind of achievement! Anyway, enjoy!

005-Glass

Their first kiss is fragile, delicate, both afraid to push it too far, not yet. It is only a fleeting moment, and Charlie can still barely think straight, so he doesn't remember a lot of it later, although he hazily recalls mentioning flying forks and that for the awkward pause afterwards he is thinking that Claire is made of glass, and she deserves better than a junkie and if they keep heading this way he is going to leave her broken one day.

But he remembers that she leaned in first, and the memory never fails to set him smiling.

029-Elope

They don't marry in the church, in the end.

They choose a registry office instead, somewhere the press won't find them. It's only a small ceremony, and Aaron starts fussing halfway through, so they have to rush it a bit.

Jack gives the bride away and Kate cries (so does Hurley).

It feels like cheating, getting married here, with three more couples queued up outside. To think how many people dream of sunset weddings on tropical beaches, and they end up in a grubby hall.

She thinks wistfully about the church, back home.

Still, Claire's perfectly happy with eloping.

001-Sleep

She's gotten dangerously used to having him sleep next to her, one arm hooked lazily over her stomach, his fingers knotted through hers.

He snores, but she thinks it's endearing, for the first couple of hours at least.

If Aaron stirs Charlie is the one who runs to him, lulls him back to sleep singing half-remembered Driveshaft tunes.

A few minutes later she'll hear him steal back to their bed and nestle in beside her again.

She'll feel him whisper 'Goodnight luv' and smile into the curve of her neck and she knows she wouldn't want it any other way.

017-Blossom

Aaron is a month old when Charlie notices it; Claire is constantly on the verge of tears, irritable, self-conscious. She holds Aaron tentatively, and snaps at Charlie when he mentions it.

He misses his bright, cheerful Claire.

Jack remarks that it's probably just the baby blues, nothing to worry about, but Charlie immediately scours the camp for supplies, asks Rose to watch the baby while he brings Claire on a long-overdue picnic.

Claire sees the lopsided candles Locke fashioned, a bunch of purple orchids and a ratty plane blanket.

Charlie sees the beginnings of a smile blossom on her face.

_  
Reviews are much appreciated._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer : You know the drill. . ._

_AN: I know I said I would ignore the season three finale, but I couldn't help it! The last one of these is set right after that, but it's still kind of AU, because Claire finds out in a different way than on the show. Oh, and does it annoy anyone else that Claire doesn't seem to miss Charlie at all? It was like, a couple of tears and then ...NOTHING! She's completely moved on! It really bugs me._

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009 – Tears

He never wanted to hurt her. He wanted to save her, save her (_his_) son.

But somehow he's ended up standing on this beach, clutching a screaming child, seeing accusing stares all around him, and watching the tears stream down her face. He wants to kiss them all away, wants to say he's so sorry, wants to make it so none of this happened, but Charlie's a perpetual failure and this is no different.

He only wanted to save them.

Claire's eyes are red and swollen for days afterwards. He hopes to God that she's not wasting her tears on him.

043 – Hands

Charlie marvels over her hands. Even after 200 odd days on a desert island they are still soft and slim and delicate. They are the colour of porcelain and as smooth as imaginary peanut butter and she tells him all about the lines criss-crossing her palms but the thing Charlie really can't get over is how comfortably they fit inside his own, his fingers curled around hers and her thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand. He is slightly ashamed of his chapped, coarse skin but she just smiles and says she doesn't mind, not at all.

046 – Mistake

Charlie is the worst mistake she has ever made.

Her own common sense tells her that; he's a heroin addict (_ex-heroin addict, she reminds herself_) a rock star and a murderer, a delusional, clingy and occasionally dangerous wreck of a man. He's hardly ideal husband material, and certainly not someone she'd want anywhere near her son.

But when she wakes up in his arms, she feels safe, and loved. When she sees him with Aaron she can't recall anything more perfect. And when he kisses her and says he doesn't think he can stop she realises she doesn't want him to.

004 – Sand

The sand on the beach is the fine, pure white kind that you see on holiday brochures and it stretches on for miles past what she can see of it. It gets warm in the sun, but not too warm, and when stands near where the waves break her toes sink down into the stuff. She finds it lining the inside of her hat occasionally, and her bed, if you could call it that, is covered in it, but it is easily swept away.

Charlie asks what made her move to the caves.

'Damn sand was getting everywhere,' she lies.

003 – Pain

The phone crackles into life from its place at Jack's hip, a distinctly Scottish voice distinguishable through the static and Claire's heart lifts. She's been worried sick, despite what she promised him.

Then Jack walks over, with _**that **_look on his face, that she's seen him give Shannon and Hurley and so many others and he presses the phone into her hand.

She can hear Desmond's voice coming from very far away. She's gotten so cold all of a sudden.

'He's gone Claire,' screeches the ghastly machine. 'He's gone.'

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

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_Reviews really are very much appreciated._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lost. But I think you kinda figured that one out for yourself. . .

**AN:** I know I've said it before (and will in all likelihood say it again) but I've still a little iffy about these-some of them turned out different than I expected. And I know less than nothing about astrology so No.4 is waaaaay off. Give them a go anyway though, won't you?

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016 – Empty

People are wary of him now; their eyes slide over his and even those he counted as friends grant him a wide berth ever since they brought him back.

He is not supposed to be here, this hollow man that was clawed back from oblivion, beaten back to life by Jack's fists.

He is not supposed to be here, with the living, with those who remember how to smile and laugh and _live._

He is supposed to be dead, but instead he stays, the half-killed, and the memories still haunt him.

He is not supposed to be here.

She is.

028 – Fly

They watch the gull fly away until their eyes water in the glare of a blood red sunset (It's been a lifetime since they watched one together) ,then they turn back towards the camp, and neither of them of want to mention that their hands are still clasped together, or that when they reach her shelter neither of them will really want him to go, or that neither of them have smiled half so much since he left, and especially not the quiet, unspoken truth (_Aaron needs a father_).

Neither of them wants to admit it.

Everyone knows it's there.

020 – Change

They manage almost two years at the beach, before the wind and rain and sand manage to drive them away, their shelters falling into ruin behind them.

They don't last long at the caves either – the roof has collapsed since they were last there and it is too cramped, too small now.

Eventually, they begrudgingly move to the Barracks. The Others are long gone, disappeared the winter before last, or at least that's when they last heard from them and sure enough the little houses are deserted.

No-one is surprised when Charlie and Claire elect to share a one-bedroomed bungalow.

048 – Pluto

He scoffs when Claire offers to do his chart, saying he's never believed in any of that stuff luv, and he's not about to start now.

Slightly irritated, she decides to do it anyway, just to see if he really was destined to fall out of the sky and end up raising children that weren't really his. Be a hero, in his own small way.

It tells her that actually Charlie is supposed to live a quiet life with his mother, because, as a Capricorn, he is traditional, conscientious and prudent.

She's beginning to think Charlie might have a point.

019 – Control

There are court cases, and interviews, and trials once they get back. After a while, they change to job interviews and mortgage applications and bloody grocery trips, and then there are pre-natal classes to attend and nurseries to paint and then. . .there is a life to live and families to raise and Oceanic Flight 815 is almost a distant memory. Almost.

It took them a while to re-adjust to having some semblance of control over their own lives, where not everything is dictated by a damn computer and bloody polar bears.

They've decided to paint the new nursery pink.

_Reviews are very much appreciated._


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

**AN:** Man, it's been a looooog time since I updated this! Sorry about that, but I've been ridiculously busy, so there's only four. And I probably won't get a chance to post some more any time soon – my exams are in 11 days and I have yet to start studying! And after they're finished I only have like a week before I go to summer camp, so god knows when I'll get near my laptop again!I apologise in advance for the long delay.

_Enjoy!_

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015 – Twist

They bring him back, broken, four days after he drowns.

His face is a mess of bruises, his white skin cold and clammy to her touch, and she recoiles, despite herself.She tries not to think of him struggling down there, with the water pressing in all about him, hard as steel and less merciful. She wants to tell him he's a hero, that she owes him almost everything... But they are coming to bury him now and she has no more time. So she settles for,

'Thank you, Desmond,' and goes to stand with a weeping Charlie for another funeral.

040 – Pattern

They've fallen into an uneasy little pattern now, dancing around each other like lovesick teenagers. He plays Daddy with her son and give her a tentative kiss on occassion but everything is stilted, clumsy. Neither is sure where they stand with the other and both are too shy to ask. He should have known he'd bloody fuck this up.

They need a fresh start, away from the prying, judgemental eyes that plague them here, away from the weight of too many bad memeories that drown out all the good.

The boat glinting on the horizon might give them just that.

035 – Poem

Charlie can see the song in her, when she's standing there in the surf, her son clasped tight in her arms. Hell, Charlie reckons there's a string of albums and all his greatest hits wrapped up in this girl and her baby boy, two beautiful people that all but fell into his worthless lap and showed him how to live again.

Really, it's almost poetic.

His family is laughing down in the waves (he can hear Aaron's joyful shrieks from here) and oh, he'd love to join them, but maybe later.

Charlie picks up his guitar and starts to strum.

038 – Malevolence

It seems to her that everytime they seem to be moving forward, past whatever came between them this week, there's always _something _to get in the way again.

Sometimes she can half believe Locke's spiels about the Island, about fate .

Maybe the Island doesn't want them to be together.

Well, the Island should know better then to impose itself on a former rebellious teen.No-one pushes Claire Littleton around, not even a malevolent, interfering chunk of rock.

Next chance she gets, Claire Littleton drags a flustered Charlie into the jungle and snogs him senseless for a good half-an-hour.

Screw fate.

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_Reviews are much appreciated._


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